I never imagined I’d spend my mornings walking slowly around the Washington Monument with a trash bag in one hand and a

grabber in the other. But these days, it’s part of my daily routine. I show up early—before the crowds—wearing my old army

hoodie, a knee brace, and a determination to leave the grounds cleaner than I found them. Bottles, cigarette butts, snack

wrappers—it all goes in the bag. Compared to what I’ve seen during my time overseas, it’s manageable work. And in many ways,

it feels like an extension of that service.

At first, I did it for personal reasons. Cleaning up this iconic place gave me a sense of purpose. It helped me feel useful again.

But I started noticing how others reacted. Some people gave encouraging nods. Others whispered, curious about who I was and

why I was doing this. One morning, I overheard someone speculate that I must be doing community service. I didn’t correct

them. Instead, I kept going.

Then, something unexpected happened.

Tucked under one of the benches I usually clean was an envelope with “FOR YOU” written on the front. I wasn’t sure what to

make of it. Was it a kind gesture? A random note? After a moment of hesitation, I opened it.

Inside was a handwritten message: “I see you every morning. Thank you for your service and for caring about this place. Don’t let the whispers get to you. You matter.”

That note stopped me in my tracks. It was simple, sincere, and it meant more than I can explain. For the first time in a while, I